His Inexperienced Mistress. Chantelle Shaw
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mine?’
Tristan expelled a breath. He really didn’t have time for this. He got up and rounded his desk to enfold Jordana in his arms. He knew what she was trying to do and he loved her for it—even if the little bimbo she was trying to protect didn’t deserve her loyalty.
‘I know you’re trying to take the blame for her, Jo. You’ve always protected her. But the fact still remains that she’s trouble. She always has been. Surely her stepfather or stepsisters can help her?’
Jordana sniffed against his chest and pushed away a little. ‘They’ve never been very close, and anyway I think they’re holidaying in France. Please, Tristan! The officer I spoke to this morning said she might be deported back to Thailand. And, no matter what you think, I can’t let that happen.’
Tristan swore under his breath. He had to admit he didn’t want to imagine the gorgeous Lily Wild wasting away in a Thai prison cell either. ‘Jo, my specialty is corporate law, and this will fall under the criminal jurisdiction.’
‘But surely you can do something!’ she implored.
Tristan released his sister and stalked over to the floor-to-ceiling windows again.
Unwelcome images of Lily as he’d last seen her crowded in and he forcibly held them back. She had been intruding on his thoughts and dreams for years now, but more so of late. Ever since Jordana had mentioned she was coming to the wedding, in fact, and to say that he resented her for it was putting it mildly.
He closed his eyes, the better to control the physical reaction he always seemed to have when he pictured her, but that only made it worse. Now he could not only visualise her, he could almost scent her as well.
Jordana touched his arm, and for a split second he imagined it was Lily.
Tristan muttered another curse under his breath. ‘Jo, forget Lily Wild and concentrate on your wedding,’ he growled, feeling like a heel when his sister flinched back from him.
‘If Lily’s not going to be there I might not even have a wedding.’
‘Now you’re being melodramatic.’
‘And you’re being horrible. Lily’s been unfairly targeted…’
‘Jordana, the woman wasn’t targeted. She was caught red-handed!’
Jordana looked at him with the kind of pain he hadn’t seen in her eyes since the day they had buried their mother. He’d vowed then that he’d do anything to protect her in the future and safeguard her happiness, and wasn’t what he was doing now the opposite?
But what she was asking was impossible…
‘Tristan, I know you hate drugs because of Mum, but Lily isn’t like that. And you usually jump at the chance to help a worthy cause.’
Tristan stared at Jordana. Her words brought back memories of the past he’d much rather leave dead and buried. And maybe it was somewhat illogical but he blamed Lily for that as well—because without her latest antics he wouldn’t be having this conversation with his sister at all!
He turned back to face Jo and unclenched his jaw. ‘Jordana, the key word in this situation is worthy. And as far as I’m concerned a drug-addicted actress who has hit the skids does not a worthy cause make.’
Jordana stared at him as if he’d just kicked a dog, and in that instant Tristan knew he was defeated. No way could he let his sister think so badly of him—and on top of that an image of Lily in a Thai prison cell kept swimming into his consciousness and twisting his gut.
He shook his head. ‘This is a big mistake,’ he warned, ignoring the little glow of relief he felt when Jordana’s face lit up with unconcealed gratitude. ‘And don’t look at me like that. I might not be able to do anything. It’s not like she shoplifted a bar of soap from the local chemist.’
‘Oh, Tristan, you are the best brother in the world. Shall I wait and come with you?’ Jordana was so happy she was practically singing.
Tristan looked up blankly, his mind already turning over to how he would approach the problem. When her words sank in his eyebrows shot skywards. ‘Absolutely not.’ The last thing he needed was his interfering sister getting in the way. ‘I’ll call you when I know something. Now, go. Do wedding stuff, or something, and leave me to sort through this mess you’re so determined to get us in the middle of.’
He barely registered it when she kissed his cheek and let herself out of his office, already issuing orders down the phone to his secretary. ‘Kate, reschedule all my meetings for the afternoon and tell Stuart Macintyre I want him in my office five minutes ago.’
He eased back in his chair and blew out a breath.
Was he completely crazy to get involved with this?
Lily Wild was trouble, and if seeing her bent over his father’s prized nineteenth-century Dickens desk snorting cocaine at Jo’s eighteenth party wasn’t proof enough of that, then surely her attempt to smuggle drugs through Heathrow today was.
Not that Lily had ever admitted to taking drugs the night of his sister’s party. She’d just given him a phoney, imperious smile that had incited his temper to boiling and after that he hadn’t wanted to hear any excuses. Why bother? In his experience all users were supposedly as innocent as Carmelite nuns.
And what had made him even more irate was that earlier that night Lily had looked at him with those violet-coloured doe eyes of hers as if he was the only man in the world for her. And, fool that he was, he’d very nearly bought it!
Up until that point she had been nothing more than an irritation, occasionally taking his sister to her stepfather’s industry parties when they were too young, and running away from him whenever he had come across her at the family estate during school holidays.
But she hadn’t run away from him at the party. Quite the opposite in fact.
Forget it, he told himself severely as his mind zeroed in on the potent memory of how he had danced with her that night. Touched her. Kissed her.
The realisation that he’d very nearly lost control with her still rankled. But she had tasted pure and sweet, and so hot and…
Tristan shook his head and swore violently. Instead of reliving a moment that should never have happened in the first place he should be remembering how he had come upon her in his father’s private study with a group of social misfits, his beloved sister, and about half a kilo of cocaine.
It had taken ten minutes to have Security dispense with everyone but his sister, and twenty-four hours to shut down the internet photos of Jordana that had been taken on a guest’s mobile phone.
The taste of Lily, unfortunately, had taken a little longer to shift.
Lily Wild squirmed uncomfortably on the hard metal chair she had been sitting in for the last four hours and seventeen minutes and wondered when this nightmare she was trapped in would end. She was presently alone in a small featureless room that would make any director on a cop show proud.
Earlier today she had been equal parts nervous and excited at the prospect of returning to England, her home, for the first time in six years.
She had been lined up at border control for ages, and had just made it to the passport-check booth when the official behind the partition had directed her to a row of officers with sniffer dogs. She hadn’t been concerned as she’d seen she was just one of many being checked over. Instead her mind had been on Jordana, hoping she would like the wedding present she’d bought for her and Oliver in Thailand, and also on how much she was looking forward to her long-overdue break.
Then one of the attending officers had lifted a medium-sized plastic bag out of her tote and asked if it belonged to her. She honestly hadn’t been able to remember.
‘I don’t know,’ she’d answered.
‘Then you’ll have to step this way.’ He’d